


What Happens to New Spectrals if They Don't Go to Mayview Middle School

by Blairdiggory



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, I have this fic in my docs labeled "Spender you fool", and it's true, parasona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blairdiggory/pseuds/Blairdiggory
Summary: Based on the prompt "Hey, what happens in Mayview if someone becomes a spectral and doesn't go to the school where Spender happens to work?" "Fic idea this gave me: the reader is new to Mayview and unemployed and after  a few days of seeing weird purple ghosts, spender breaks into their apartment"This is mostly a parasona fic. Also I regret nothing.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	What Happens to New Spectrals if They Don't Go to Mayview Middle School

Blair was… perturbed, to say the least.  


It had started with the purple phantoms. Just a few days ago, she’d seen something fly right past her on the way to Mayview High School. She’d flinched instinctively, but when she looked up ahead to find whatever it was that had spooked her, she saw a trail of purple haze and then… nothing. Even the haze dissolved a few moments later. It was easy enough to explain away the smoke as a trick of the light, though, and the flying thing must have been a big insect, so she kept walking.  


At the end of the day, however, there was another purple apparition. Blair had been in orchestra class, focusing intently on playing her viola, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw something slither below her. She stopped playing, her heart jolting because she was positive she had seen a huge, purple snake near her feet. But when she took her eyes off her sheet music, she saw that there was nothing there. Unfortunately, her lapse didn’t go unnoticed (it was a small orchestra), and her teacher stopped conducting to ask what was wrong.  


“I just… thought I saw something,” Blair said, looking around hurriedly. The only things that even resembled snakes were the backpacks with their straps hanging loose against the walls, and they were nowhere near her.  


She got some looks from the other students that clearly indicated that she shouldn’t interrupt class again, so she put her fingers and bow in position again and prepared to repeat the piece. This time, she didn’t bother looking at anything other than her sheet music and the conductor.  
Blair continued to see translucent purple beings for the next few days, with the time between each sighting getting shorter and shorter. That night, she’d managed to keep one in her view for about five seconds before it disappeared. It had looked like a small octopus with purple vapor coming off of it, and it had been so close that she could have touched it. She wasn’t brave enough to do that, but seeing the phantom so clearly had finally cemented one idea in her mind:  


Ghosts existed.  


Haha, just kidding, she was going insane. It was probably time to find a psychiatrist.  


However, it was 11 PM, and she doubted any psychiatric practice was open that late, so she vowed to find one in the morning. Tomorrow was Saturday, so she had a full weekend to search. Blair turned off the lights and went to bed.  


That night, her dreams were strange. When she’d begun seeing those purple phantoms, her dreams had been getting progressively more vivid, and tonight, they reached their peak. In her dream, she found that she had supposedly woken up for the day. Due to dream logic, she knew she was in her room, but it didn’t look like her room. It had the same shape, and her belongings were in the right place, but additional items had manifested. The drawn curtains were now made of a heavy maroon fabric, which blocked any light from entering the room. There wasn’t complete darkness, however, because several small tables with gaudy tablecloths were positioned throughout the room, and upon each table was a glowing orb. Shawls and scarves crisscrossed the ceiling, and their haphazard arrangement made strange shadows creep in the corners of the room.  


Blair stepped up to one of orbs, and she could see now that it, like the others, was a crystal ball. The deep indigo smoke that swirled inside it was cloudy, and she could see nothing through it. She’d never believed in divination, though she thought horoscopes and tarot cards were fun to play around with, and she guessed tonight was not her night to become a seer. Still, she moved closer to the crystal ball, curious to see if anything would form.  


Just as she was about to touch it, something in the shadows moved lightning quick towards her, smacking her hand away from the crystal ball and landing across the table from her. It planted bony hands down on the table on either side of the ball and growled, which made no sense to Blair, because she couldn’t see a mouth on the thing. The creature’s head was a huge, round eyeball, with a veil draping on either side of it. Its wingspan was the size of her own, and its long skeleton-like hands came out of an indigo cloth covering the top half of its body. And the bottom half of its body… didn’t exist. It floated above the floor, its eye glaring at her.  


Blair gave a short scream and stumbled back. She looked around for a weapon, but she wasn’t keen on trying to touch another crystal ball, for fear the thing would attack her.  


Suddenly, she realized the thing wasn’t attacking her at all right now. It just stayed by the crystal ball she had tried to touch, watching her menacingly, but it didn’t move towards her. The growling didn’t even seem like a growl now, so much as it sounded like a string of curses in another language.  


Blair took a few steps back and put herself as far away from the crystal balls as she could. The thing seemed to relax a little. It began to scrutinize Blair, thought not in a malicious way, and after a few seconds seemed to come to a conclusion. It began to speak in that language again, this time more conversationally.  


When it saw Blair’s confusion, it sighed, seemed to think really hard, and then said, in English: “Spec-tral?”  


Blair looked blankly at the thing. It tried again.  


“Gho-ost?” it said.  


Blair didn’t know what it meant. Was it saying it was spectral, a ghost? It had sounded more like a question, so she wasn’t sure that was it. She decided to ask her own question back.  


“What are you?”  


The thing seemed to think hard again, mumbling ‘what’ to itself over and over. Finally, it pointed to itself and said:  


“Cassandra.”  


That sounded more like a name than a thing, Blair thought. And then it hit her.  


This thing had tried to talk to her in its language, but upon realizing she didn’t speak it, it had tried to speak to her in English. But it didn’t speak English well, and it thought Blair was asking for its name. Blair pointed at herself.  


“Blair,” she said.  


Cassandra looked delighted that it had been understood and began to babble to itself in its strange language. It motioned for Blair to come towards it, pointing at its crystal ball now, and considering it looked significantly less murderous than before, Blair decided to go along with it.  


Cassandra wrapped its fingers around the ball. The smoke inside began to clear, and an image began to appear in the glass, as clear as if they had been a video taken from her phone. In the image, indigo vapor curled around Blair’s body. She was in a dojo, and she was shooting ball of the vapor at targets. Alongside her were other people with vapors of different colors surrounding them, doing the same. Then smoke overtook the picture, and she could no longer see it.  


She raised her head and saw Cassandra nodding at what it saw in the ball. Then, it pointed its finger at Blair and said again, “Spec-tral.”  


Blair still didn’t know what that meant, and frankly, it didn’t really matter considering this was a dream. But at least this dream seemed to ease her fears about her going crazy. That is, if ghosts or whatever were less crazy.  


And just as she remembered she was in a dream, the new room vanished, leaving her in her regular one. It was too bad, she thought, that dream was kind of cool. Her dream self climbed into bed and fell asleep, and Blair slept the rest of the night without dreaming. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was noon, and Blair was in her room on her computer, researching psychiatrists. It was a calm and sunny, and she was considering opening her window, when she heard the sound of said window shattering.  


She flew up from her chair, grabbed her metal water bottle as a weapon and turned to face the intruder.  


A man in his mid-20’s was panting and holding a crowbar, which he had used to attempt to open the window, but had ended up smashing it. He jumped into the room, smiling brightly, and said, “HEY I’M HERE TO TELL YOU ABOUT GHOST STUFF-!”  


Blair ran and hit him in the head with her water bottle.  


“OH SHIT OH FUCK HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY ROOM?!” she screamed. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”  


“I’M RICHARD SPENDER-“  


“MOM! CALL THE COPS!“  


“-AND I’M HERE TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN SEE GHOSTS-“  


At this point, Blair was whacking him in the head with her water bottle repeatedly, but Mr. Spender just kept talking.  


“-AND SPIRITS-“  


“GET THE FUCK OUT!”  


Blair kneed Mr. Spender in the crotch, which shut him up, and then she pushed him out the broken window.  


“YOU’RE A SPECTRAL, BLAIR!” he yelled as he fell.  


That made her stop dead in her tracks. Her dream…  


She ran to the window just as Mr. Spender hit the ground hard (her room was on the second floor).  


“I’M A WHAT?!” she yelled.  


“A SPECTRAL!” he choked out.  


“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!”  


“YOU GET MAGIC POWERS!”  


Blair paused.  


“OK! I’M COMING DOWN! BUT I’M WARNING YOU, I WILL CALL THE COPS!”  


She ran downstairs, opened the door, and ran outside, water bottle up and finger hovering over the call button for 911. Mr. Spender was trying to stand, but he looked pretty bad and had to lean on the house to keep himself up. Still, he was smiling as brightly as ever.  


Blair aimed the water bottle at him.  


“Tell me everything. NOW.”


End file.
